


Sweet tea needs that sugar stirrin...

by AltheaShepard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Music helps, SO MUCH FLUFF, Song fic, Steve being cute, Threesome if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 18:49:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19774237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaShepard/pseuds/AltheaShepard
Summary: Music, Steve's found, can help a mood dramatically





	Sweet tea needs that sugar stirrin...

**Author's Note:**

> So this came about because of Luke Bryan's song Knockin' Boots and I just got the fluffy image of Steve pulling someone to dance with him and here you go. I own none of the songs mentioned and the characters are all Marvel's.

If there is one thing that Steve Rogers has learned to appreciate about the future, it’s the music. It was the first thing he and Tony had really bonded over and after his… return… he found it to be more therapeutic than he ever gave it credit for. The simplest note progression could have him smiling or quietly fighting back tears and on the rougher days, he found it easier to just lie down somewhere, earbuds in and let the music wash through his system and let his mind process as it needed to. He recalled asking Tony once why he almost constantly had the music up so high in the lab and the answer had floored him. It made sense now as he used different genres to ground him and aid in processing emotions and thoughts but at the time it had been surprising.

“If it’s loud I can only focus on the problem in front of me instead of the eighteen million ways I’ve fucked up my life and every way I could have done things differently.” 

He hadn’t had a response to that. Now though, he did and in his retirement he took the time to finally explore the music Tony, Sam and, on occasion, Nat recommended to him. Soon, he and Bucky were making a routine of lying next to each other, dual headphone jack allowing them to listen on seperate headphones, hands folded and eyes often closed. Over time, with the notes fluttering through his ears he was able to finally admit to himself things he’d been lying about or blatantly ignoring. 

He couldn’t recapture the time he’d lost. It had come and gone and he was here now and it was where he belonged. Where he was needed. The war had given him the ability to grow into himself and the ice had preserved him to put him in the place he could be the most help to the most people. 

Peggy would always be in his heart even if he couldn’t be at her side. That was a bitter pill to swallow and he had only done so at her insistence. She had known, as she always seemed to, more about him that he himself did. Her encouragement and reassurance would always be etched into his heart and memory and, as his fingers brushed gently over the words across his wrist, in his skin, there for him to look at and smile and cry over.

Bucky was here with him but he wasn’t the same Bucky and that was OK. Bucky was still Bucky and always would be but as time had changed Steve, time and Hydra had changed Bucky. It did and didn’t make him a different person in Steve’s eyes. Didn’t because there was still the fond smirk twisting the corner of his mouth, the glint of humor in his eyes, the reservation hidden under the cocky set of his shoulders. Did because the reservation took longer to loosen up and relax into actual cockiness and not a front, the smirk took a little longer to form, his laugh carefully hidden so as to not draw attention to himself. The protectiveness was still there, the willingness to call Steve out on his bullshit slowly trickling and then surging forth with a vengance whenever he did something spectacularly dumb. He was more prone to stabbing someone and often fell into spells of silence and couldn’t handle being cold but that was alright. Steve just learned how to read his face, how he moved and Bucky was still Bucky. 

It was ok to be selfish. It was ok to tell someone no, he didn’t want to pick up the shield. He didn’t want to give a speech at the inauguration of the next President. He preferred sketching to painting and wanted to run for the hell of it and enjoyed training in the gym until his muscles burned because then he could finally relax that knot in his shoulders. It was ok to back up and put space between himself and the next thing to throw him for a loop and it was ok to ask for time to process. Selfishness was allowed and it was ok to be a little greedy. 

And in that vein it was ok to ask Friday to put on his playlist in the common room of the compound when no one was around and dance by himself. He wasn’t the most coordinated but he learned from Peggy (and admittedly youtube) that letting his body move as it would, let it catch the beats of whatever song he had playing was OK. He didn’t have to hold himself so rigidly all the time. Granted, his first few attempts when Bucky caught him had his friend high tailing it out of the room to laugh at him and the blush on his face didn’t fade for hours but that was OK. He took pleasure in making his friend laugh even if it was at his own expense. 

Now though, he’d gotten better and less shy and with every new song introduced to him, he got a little bolder. Bold enough to pull Bucky into a loose sway with something slow when the other man was having a difficult time deciding to be still or prowl the compound. It startled him at first but gradually, over time, he would relax into it, letting Steve lead him or leading Steve himself. Music became a way for them to communicate like they used to, song choices their own message when they had a hard time putting their thoughts into words. Sometimes they became reminders that it was ok to talk to each other or someone else. It became common to see the look on the other’s face, silently put on a song and pull the other into something resembling a dance. 

What also became common was dancing and playing music just for the hell of it. Because it was a Tuesday and they were in a good mood. Because something ridiculous happened and they needed Shinedown blasting from the speakers to vent their frustration so they didn’t break something. Again. Because they needed to burn off energy but didn’t want to go to the gym. Or, because Natasha looked distant and like she needed something grounding. 

Which happened to be the case today. 

Pausing in the doorway to the common room, Steve cocked his head slowly to the side and watched Natasha stare out the window. The room was silent, TV in the corner shut off and book lying forgotten in her lap. He and Bucky had noticed over the past few weeks since her return from Clint’s (i.e. since Clint had let her out of his sight) that she had seemed more quiet and withdrawn than usual. And for Steve, that just wouldn’t do. Backing up carefully so as not to alert her to his presence, he quietly called to Friday.

“Friday, can you que up my playlist for the common room please? Start with Meghan Trainor,”

“Sure thing, Mr. Rogers. Would you like me to wait until you’ve talked to Ms. Romanoff?”

“Just until I have her up off the couch,” 

“Ofcourse,”

Steve smirked to himself and set his shoulders back, strolling into the room. Nat was right where he’d left her, fingers tapping distractedly on her book. Leaning over the back of the couch beside her, he took the risk of wrapping his arms around her shoulders and ducking his head against her neck. Sure enough, she startled and tried to twist around to hit him, one hand gripping his wrist bruisingly tight and the other coming up to grip his hair. He couldn’t help chuckling through the whine as her grip immediately loosened and she let out a frustrated huff.

“You know better than to sneak up on me, Rogers.” 

“I do but it was the best way of getting your attention.”

He offered a smile as he straightened up, not completely uncurling his arms from around her. She shot him a deadpan look, rolling her eyes. She wasn’t completely able to hide the faint smirk on her lips though so he took the opportunity to give her his best wide eyed concerned look. Bucky had told him once that it was a dirty trick to pull that look on someone but he didn’t care. If it got him results he’d use it. Sure enough, she caught the look and huffed, shifting back slightly to look at him better.

“What?” 

“Are you ok? Really ok?”

Her lips pressed into a brief, thin line, knowing that he was seeing through the facade she tried to project. Over the months since her return she’d tried to rebuild her walls but they crumbled far too quickly around those she considered family. She never said it out loud but they knew.

“Just… can’t focus today.” 

Steve nodded slowly, looking thoughtful as he squeezed her shoulders and rounded the couch. Gently, he took the book from her and grasped her hand, urging her off the couch and to the open space behind. Miraculously she allowed it, quirking an eyebrow and letting an amused, questioning smirk slip across her face. Steve just gave her a smile and pulled her close, setting his hand on her hip.

“Indulge me for a minute? I think I can help.” 

Another huff and she set her hand on his shoulder, allowing him this moment. Friday, perfect timing as always, started the requested song and the opening notes of the song flittered into the room. Natasha snorted, stumbling a little as he moved into a basic tango. She caught on quickly, as he knew she would, though her movements were stiff.

“Are you seriously trying to make me feel better with Meghan Trainor?”

“Maybe.”

“Where did you even learn to dance? I thought you had no idea.”

Steve smirked, carefully moving her around the room and watching, noting the incremental loosening of her shoulders. 

“Peggy taught me. And then Pepper signed me up for dance lessons.”

“And you think this will help me focus?”

“It will if you stop thinking so hard about it.” 

Natasha huffed, scowling and trying to pull away. He wouldn’t let her, instead using her momentum to swing her out and spin her back in, startling her. Again, she tried to pull away but he just went with it, Friday raising the volume as Steve spun them around the room. Better When I’m Dancin’ turned into Set it All Free and by the chorus he had her spinning with him and actually managed a laugh, tension bleeding out of her shoulders. The second verse had her taking the lead and he was happy to follow, letting her use him as a brace to do a few flips and catching her only to spin her back out again. Neither of them worried about the volume level, letting Friday set it to Tony Loud as they spun around the large room, letting one song bleed into the next. 

And that was how Bucky found them. Steve pulling Natasha into a swing dance to I’m Still Standing. He caught the amused smirk as Bucky leaned against the doorway and with a jerk of his head Bucky was stealing Nat from him, seamlessly picking up the beat and ducking for her jump over his knee. Steve laughed, clapping and tapping his foot along as he watched them, taking pleasure in the surprised but pleased smile on Nat’s face. 

Back before the war, Steve had gone with Bucky a handful of times to the dance hall, watching his friend spin the ladies around the floor effortlessly, an easy grace smoothing his steps and letting him guide even the shyest dancers into letting loose and having fun. It made his heart swell to see that easy grace returning as he pulled Nat along with him. Neither of them stumbled as the genre changed, the opening chords of Life is a Highway making them laugh and Nat tossed him a grin as Bucky dipped her.

“Country? Really, Rogers!”

Steve just shrugged helplessly, catching Bucky’s eye roll and sticking his tongue out at his friend. 

Ever since he had discovered it, Steve had gotten good natured ribbing for his love of the genre. He couldn’t help it if he felt the lyrics reflected a lot of what he was feeling and many times, no matter how many times Bucky denied it, he’d drawn him in with Tim McGraw and Chris Stapleton. Rascal Flatts was no exception as he joined the two, remembering how the first few repetitions of the song let him realize how true to his life the lyrics were. 

Now though, as Rascal Flatts faded and Luke Bryan sang about his truck on a two lane and crossing town, he turned his attention to Nat, pulling her close and crooning the lyrics to her, tossing in a cheesy wink and tugging lightly at her braid. That startled a laugh out of her, the tension from before completely gone as she threw her head back, matching his steps easily and, if his eyes weren’t deceiving him, blushing the faintest little bit as the meaning of the lyrics caught up with her. At the second verse, with another wink and a kiss on the cheek, he let Bucky steal her away, jokingly protesting as Bucky stole his idea and sang the next few lines to her. 

Steve couldn’t even be mad though. As the three of them fell into a three way dance they couldn’t repeat if they tried, the sunset flowed into the room, lighting up their eyes and the warm smiles on their faces. Natasha’s eyes were bright and aware and a warm flush colored her cheeks as she let them pull her into dance after dance after dance, eventually collapsing with them on the couch in a breathless, laughing pile. Friday lowered the music accordingly, shifting to something slow and sweet as Bucky reached across Nat’s sprawled form over their laps and squeezed the back of his neck. 

Turning his head, Steve gave him a warm smile, catching his hand and squeezing as he rested them on Nat’s stomach. With another breathless chuckle, Nat covered theirs with hers and squeezed, meeting his gaze with a smile. 

“Thank you,” She whispered.

Steve smiled back, squeezing Bucky’s hand and tapping his thumb against her abdomen.

“Anytime.”


End file.
